


Angle of Approach

by PuppetMaster55



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Blood, he's just. a little more dead here, technically Danny IS dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppetMaster55/pseuds/PuppetMaster55
Summary: Dash sees something he really shouldn't
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	Angle of Approach

Dash dragged the protractor over the paper, his ruler laying across it and making a straight line at eighteen degrees. His compass had already drawn the circle, and now all he needed to do was bisect it and mark where eighteen degrees were. The pencil scratched across the surface, and Jazz glanced at the result and nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Now–”

“Jazz?”

Student and tutor looked up at the call, and Dash returned to his geometry homework. Danny leaned against the doorway, his hair matted against his head and the ragged black hoodie, full of holes, plastered to his skin. He looked paler than usual, and Dash pretended to measure things out with his protractor and ruler while eavesdropping. Whatever was going on, he was fully prepared to hold it over the smaller teen’s head for the rest of the week.

“Danny?” Jazz looked him over. “I didn’t know it started raining? Do you need a towel?”

“It’s not– I’m fine.” Danny stood straight, and Dash saw, out of the corner of his eye, the glisten of wet on the wood. It looked dark, darker than water, almost– “What do you know about blood loss?”

Dash carefully measured out forty-five degrees, and winced when it came out lower – not by much, but enough that he had to erase it and start over. The eraser scritched over the paper, removing the darkest of the line.

“Blood loss?” Jazz’s voice lowered, and Dash frowned at the impression of the line left on the paper– he couldn’t get rid of his mistake, not completely. Even if the line wasn’t there anymore, the scar of the mistake remained.

“Like, how much does it take for someone to die?” Danny wrapped an arm around his chest, covering several of the holes on his hoodie. Dash squinted at the squishing sound it made, at the squishing sound he could’ve sworn Danny made, like squeezing the water out of of sponge. Danny took a deep breath, and the squishing sound got louder.

“About two liters,” Jazz answered, looking concerned. Danny let out a breath, chuckling, and it sounded far too wet for Dash’s liking.

“That little?” Danny asked, his voice sounding wet and thick, like when you’ve got a throat full of phlegm.

“The human body has four liters of blood in it, Danny.” Jazz looked over Danny, concerned. “Where did those holes come from?”

“What holes?” Danny asked in kind, crossing his arms. Dash looked closer at the hoodie, looked closer at the holes. He felt himself pale when he saw how some of them seemed to be leaking a dark liquid. The wood of the doorway, where Danny had been leaning, looked darker than the rest, looked–

Dash glanced at Danny’s waist, at his jeans, and his mind caught up with his instincts just in time to derail. Deep red, almost black, stained the pants. Dash felt himself pale, felt the blood in his veins curdle as he realized that he was watching Danny Fenton, full of bullet holes, bleed out in front of him while casually talking with his sister. Because, he realized distantly, all those ragged holes in the hoodie could only be from a bullet, and the reason the hoodie was stuck tight to him was because it was soaked in blood. It was why he was so pale, why he was asking about blood loss.

And all that didn’t matter. Dash counted more than two dozen holes in the hoodie, at least that he could see, and knew that it meant that Danny should be dead at least twice over.

But he was walking around like it was nothing. Was talking like it was a nuisance, was acting like nothing was wrong, like he shouldn’t be dead.

_Ghost_ , Dash’s mind realized. He was looking at the ghost of Danny Fenton.


End file.
